


Coping with the Thorns

by waterloggedroots



Series: Our Universe [2]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e45 Rose's Scabbard, F/F, Gen, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied Pearl/Rose Quartz (Steven Universe), Light Angst, POV Third Person Limited, Rose's Scabbard, Steven's just mentioned, That's pretty much all it is, based heavily on Rose's Scabbard but with internal dialogue from Pearl, but don't worry it's really just a cute short little ficlet, hints at Pearl's love for Rose, it's a little sad in the beginning since it follows the episode storyline, just Pearl's thoughts, maybe canon compliant?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:22:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9069370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterloggedroots/pseuds/waterloggedroots
Summary: There was sadness in her eyes as she told him he looked so much like his mother.
 (I'm bad at summaries, but I promise the story is better, hah.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt actually came from a prompt generator, and ran somewhere along the lines of: "There was sadness in her face as she told him he looked a lot like his father." Obviously this was probably suggesting more of a boyxgirl prompt, but it reminded me immediately of Pearl and Steven (not like that!), so I tweaked it a bit and, well, that's where the idea began! Hope you enjoy!

( _"Sometimes, you look so much like her."_ )

There was sadness in her eyes as she told him he looked so much like his mother.

It hadn't quite slipped out, but it became apparent once it left her lips that, maybe, talking to the boy about the mother he barely knew wasn't a very tactful action.

( _"Turn it clockwise! No, your other clockwise! Yeah, lift it backwards!"_ )

The other two were busy trying to unwedge the giant axe in the temple door; with all the ruckus they were making, it was unlikely they'd heard her.

She leaned down to grasp the boy's shoulders, whispering in his ear a secret that had him bouncing on his toes, stars in his eyes that were so reminiscent of _hers_. (He really _was_ like his mother.)

( _"I can show it to you."_ )

If she had known the outcome, how the rest of the day would unfold, maybe she would have withheld that information from him. But, regardless of the secrets that had been kept from even herself, they boy deserved to know.

Of all people, he deserved to know.

( _"What do_ you _know? You've never even_ met _her!"_ )

She hadn't expected herself to snap the way she did; she hated herself as soon as the words left her mouth, as soon as she saw his face. The boy _knew_ he didn't know his mother, painfully so. He didn't need that reminder so belligerently thrown in his face. By her, of all people.

( _"Fine, go! Go cry about it!"_ )

She tried to run away. She tried to remove herself, to prevent herself from making the situation worse. She didn't need his sweet, innocent eyes staring up at her so, guilt gnawing at her stomach like a parasite.

( _"Steven!"_ )

She didn't mean to just leave him to fend for himself. It hurt her just as much as if it had been her instead when she watched that little boy fall. She told herself that she didn't have Amethyst's whip or Garnet's reach, that there was nothing she could do to save him with just a useless spear. Still, she was lucky that he managed to make it on his own; she would have never forgiven herself otherwise.

( _"Pearl, you have to tell me what's wrong."_ )

She felt even guiltier when the boy still gently prodded, knowing something was wrong and wanting to help. _Stars_ , he sounded so much like _her_ , showing boundless love and forgiveness and concern, even when she didn't deserve it. He cared, even though she failed to do the same.

( _"Do you remember this place? Do you have any of her memories? We were right here, over 5,000 years ago..."_ )

Before she could stop herself, she was reliving the day she insisted she formally join Rose Quarts in her efforts. In hologram, in visible light, where the little boy could see those memories. It did nothing to ease the guilt she felt; she felt worse for taunting him, for throwing it in his face of how closely and intimately she knew his mother, when every day he only wished he'd had the chance to _meet_ her. Yet still, he displayed the same gentle, caring, selfless spirit of his mother when he hugged her and said _"I think you're pretty great."_

It brought tears to her eyes. He really _was_ her little boy.

Despite the sadness she knew he must have been feeling, he only showed concern for her. She let go of the handle, but he grabbed her hand again, replacing it in its spot atop the pink hilt. Together, they returned her sword to its resting place.

He put on a show next, just to cheer her up, pulling out handkerchief after handkerchief in the classic clown fashion, the top hat thrown in as his own cute little charm. (She thought it was childish, but she went along with it anyway, understanding the meaning behind his play.)

She gasped when he brought out the flag next. _Her_ flag. She suddenly found herself displaying a passionate, detailed re-enactment of one of their many days on the battlefield, prepping for combat. He listened with a fervent interest, not taking his eyes off of her for an instant, soaking in every detail like a parched sponge.

In every way, he was.

Afterward, she swung her leg over the lion's back, seated behind the little boy she'd come to look after as if he were her own. As they traveled back in the direction of home, staring down at his soft, dark curls, she was reminded once again of how much he was like his mother.

This time, she decided it with a small smile across her lips.


End file.
